


Last Thoughts

by jenna221b



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: (again kinda sorta), (kinda sorta) - Freeform, Crying Sherlock, Declarations Of Love, Episode: s04e02 The Lying Detective, Explaining TLD Cliffhanger, Fix-It, Injured John, Inspired By Tumblr, M/M, One Shot, POV John Watson, Post-Episode: s04e02 The Lying Detective, Post-Episode: s04e03 The Final Problem, Stream of Consciousness, The Final Problem, The Three Garridebs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-09-20 03:37:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9473669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenna221b/pseuds/jenna221b
Summary: He can’t focus- too many thoughts and lies and theories and she’s talking about chips aboutchipsand he feels shame that he could ever have doubted Sherlock; she was real, whoever she is, oh God, Sherlock, Sherlock-And then she’s saying a word that feels strange to his ears- You’re-Us, You’re-Us, what? And then he remembers mythology books he’d read: Eurus, Greek, East Wind. He thinks back to Janus, the God with two faces, and wonders if there’s ever such a thing as a coincidence-





	

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by marcespot's second "John starts hallucinating after being shot" video: http://jenna221b.tumblr.com/post/156398088330/marcespot-john-starts-hallucinating-after-being

He can’t focus- too many thoughts and lies and theories and she’s talking about chips about _chips_ and he feels shame that he could ever have doubted Sherlock; she _was_ real, whoever she is, oh God, Sherlock, Sherlock-

And then she’s saying a word that feels strange to his ears- You’re-Us, _You’re_ -Us, what? And then he remembers mythology books he’d read: Eurus, Greek, East Wind. He thinks back to Janus, the God with two faces, and wonders if there’s ever such a thing as a coincidence-

No, quick, double back, _think._ The East Wind? Sherlock’s voice, Sherlock’s voice when he was leaving, he hears the plane engine roaring, no no, Sherlock never left, it’s okay, it’s not okay; it is what it is: _The East Wind is coming, Sherlock._

A rubbish big brother. Mycroft. Mycroft is lying. Lying. Liar-

“He’s making a funny face.”

Funny how? That funny face on the wallpaper, Sherlock shot because he was bored, Sherlock, please, I need to tell you- there’s something you need to know-

“I think I’ll put a hole in it.”

A myth that time freezes, he doesn’t have any- there’s a jolt and that _pain_ , that familiar pain, he’s been here before, but he doesn’t know, he doesn’t know if he can hold on, _he has no-one_ , and he’s lying down, he can’t stop lying down-

Drifting. Films and clowns and bombs and a ship? Pirates? It doesn’t make sense, but what does that _matter_ , it’s better, this way, it’s-

Pain. Can’t. Can’t do it, have to- must- shut down-

Something. Something from above. “John? John, can you hear me? Oh Christ, oh Christ, _oh_ -” 

Doesn’t he understand? It’s too late, it’s too late, now, he’s in the plane, he’s going to crash-

Hope? There’s no hope. Should tell someone. Let someone know. The stuff he wanted to say… too late, too late. 

Someone, someone crying: “I- I need to tell, need to tell his-his sister. No, I’m family, I _am_ family, you don’t understand, I have to _stay_ , I prom-”

Sister? Always something. Why does that sound funny? Harry. Yes. _Tell my sister I’m here._

The Someone is back: “Please, please, please, John, you’re not gone, I _know_ you’re not gone, let me find you, let me save you-” 

Drifting back. Water. If he drowns, he can’t feel anything. _Save my soul, seek my room-_

A voice beginning to splinter, shaking- “Oh, hello. Are you-”

It speeds up. More pain. What they could become, he’s wanted, he aches for it, a future, but he’s lost, he’s lost-

“I know you’re in there, John Hamish Watson, and you, you l-listen to me right now, no excuses. Now you _fight_ , you fight your way back, do you understand, you fight like the soldier you are because I-I can’t- I can’t do this alone-oh my God-”

There’s light. Light at the top of the well. But… but he was never in the well, was he?

“John? Oh, _John_ , that’s it, that’s it, open your eyes-”

Everything is white- and then it isn’t. Sherlock’s face above him. Tears falling onto his cheeks. Familiar… but why… 

Sherlock gasps out a choked laugh, and there’s an attempt at a smile, and then he’s suddenly sobbing: _“I love you, I love you, I love you.”_

The world rights itself.


End file.
